His fingers barely touched the bare skin of her neck, but it was enough to make Lucy's heart beat faster and her breathing heavier. Instantly, all her regrets of not having brought her scarf faded. She wasn't cold anymore.
Lucy looked up; at those bright blue eyes so familiar to her like her mother's perfume or the sound of a piano. The falling snow, the sharp wind, it all seemed to be far, far away.
Their lips met in a fire. Each atom of their body bursted in flames. It had always been that way. James had always been the fire in the cold.